Making Bone Broth

No. I'm not a new age hipster making bone broth to pour in my coffee and smoothies.  I'm interested in trying every recipe in Hank Shaw's Buck, Buck, Moose wild game cookbook.  He references venison broth as a recipe in many of his recipes, so I thought I would attempt this staple.

Bones we froze from hunts this summer to make broth.

4 pounds of venison bones

Step 1: roast oil & salt-covered bones at 400 for roughly an hour:

Roasted bones! It smelled heavenly!

Step 2: Put bones in a pot and cover with water.  Scrape browned bits from the roast pan and add to pot.  Heat to a boil.  Cover & simmer overnight.

Step 3: In the morning, add the onions, carrots, celery, and spices and continue simmering for two more hours.

Simmering veggies in the broth the next morning.  It smelled like Thanksgiving!

Step 4: Strain broth and remove all ingredients not liquid.

Step 5: When your freezer is as crammed as ours, can the broth!

Cooling jars of broth.  I canned in
3-cup and 1-cup amounts.

3-cups of venison broth, canned

The kitchen was a disaster!

All cleaned up! Brooks couldn't even tell the Kitchen was destroyed.

Next: Meat Jelly! (AKA Glace de Viande) Recipe by Hank Shaw

Autumn's Bounty

My kitchen, warm from the heat of the oven and slow-cooker, is filled with the aroma of a coming meal: Tunisian Braised Venison Shank and roasted carrots.  A tea-towel-covered bowl sits beside these appliances with rising bread.  The rain softly drizzles down the window pane.  Autumn days like these make me incredibly thankful for the bounty we harvested and brought into our home to nourish us through the coming seasons.  The hard work, pain, and mental exhaustion suffered through some hunts are healed on slow weekend days such as these.  I stand at my kitchen counter in my yoga pants, a cup of steaming tea on my right, a ballcap on my tousled hair, appreciating days like today.

My phone vibrates.  Incoming text from "Brooksbabe" currently in Kodiak: Hey beautiful. We got two deer this morning... Great hunt...They walked down to us...  Just got done.  Exhausted from the hike...

Another day of venison processing ahead for him and more meals to share together and with friends.  Autumn and her bounty: this will always be my favorite season.  

Old Dog, New Tricks

In education, a buzzword and area of focus is teaching students about having a growth mindset.  This means that a person starts a new activity knowing they will make mistakes along the way that will help them learn and improve.  The opposing inclination is known as a fixed mindset: when someone is too scared of failure to even begin or quits the moment something becomes challenging.  With a career in education, these concepts are played out daily in my classroom.

But for me personally, I had always thought of myself as someone with a growth mindset; my motto in life is Neale Donald Walsh’s quote (plastered around my classroom): “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.”  But when I became serious about learning how to ski so I could join my boyfriend in the backcountry to cover more terrain than snowshoeing could do, I had some serious introspection ahead of me.

At first, lessons at the resort went well, and shortly I was skiing greens and blues easily alongside the employee.  I was feeling confident; falling was not as bad as my fear had made it out to be.  Things were going really, really well, and then Boyfriend suggested we go put my backcountry setup to use.   I’m no stranger to outdoor activities: I sea kayak, summited Mt. Whitney from the parking lot and back in one day, attempted to summit Rainier, have hiked all over Kodiak Island without being mauled by a Kodiak brown bear, hiked 100 miles of Alaska’s Lost Coast, trail run, backpacked through Montana wilderness areas several times, rafted Grand Canyon, and completed many more adventures on and off the beaten path.  I did not know why the idea of now actually going backcountry skiing terrified me, but the fear of the unknown was almost debilitating. Months previous, I had purchased a backcountry skiing set up from a friend, just for this purpose! I was in a quandary.

For safety, I had the avalanche set up, and though we practiced with the avy gear, I was very dependent on others around me to “read” the snow.  This fear made me think back to my students, “Is this how they feel when they start a project they feel is too big or too hard?” I also remembered the line I serve students when they start to fizzle from a project, “Don’t quit on me, because I’m not quitting on you.”  At this moment, I felt strong compassion for my struggling students; I was clearly having a fixed mindset to backcountry skiing.

As amped as I was to go skiing and refusing to be left behind, the intense trepidation and fear of the unknown coursing through me was overwhelming to my senses.  I had not felt this kind of hesitation about anything in a long, long time.  I could not rectify this feeling within me; I wanted to learn, yet I was equally terrified of the unknown.  However, there was A) no way I was going to be left behind, and B) no way I was going to admit to Boyfriend what a wimp I was feeling like inside, so I loaded up my gear and we headed out.  

Those first backcountry lessons were rough days with plenty of falls; many big, wide turns (my specialty); and even a bit of attitude from Yours Truly.  Boyfriend even asked me, “Are you sure you want to learn how to ski? You're acting like I’m dragging you into this.”  This was always a great reality check for me as I readjusted my inner attitude so I could behave like the Lindsey he knows and not the fixed mindset Lindsey that left him, and me, frustrated.

It’s been two ski seasons since those first lessons and I have logged more hours skiing backcountry than riding the lifts.  The bar on defining a “good day” of skiing has slowly been raised.  At first, if there were no tears, it was a good day!  Then, if there were no meltdowns, it was a good day!  And towards the end of this most recent ski season, I remember declaring, “This is actually kinda fun!”  For a beginner, every ski day is taxing because there is so much learning involved, so many decisions to make that seasoned skiers take for granted they are even making.  

The famous "Lindsey Pizza" caught on camera.

As I wrapped up the last ski of the season in early June and replaced skis with hiking boots and fishing poles, Boyfriend tells me I’m the fastest skier doing “pizza” on the mountain. I’ll try for a growth mindset next year and more “french fry.”

Skiing with these two really is the best!

Aravaipa Wilderness, 3/21-3/23

I headed down for my Spring Break in Arizona for a visit that included an overnight backpack trip with my sister, Kelly. My parents were also flying in from a vacation in Mexico with Molly and her family. Dad would be camping with us; Mom would head to southern Arizona and meet up with her snowbird friends for the duration of the camping trip.

We headed out about 1 pm to drive 120 miles, uncertain of the time it would take to arrive at the trailhead due to the variety of roads we would have to travel. Thanks to the recent rains, the desert was in bloom with brittlebush flowers. Yellow-covered billowy blooms spread across the landscape of tawny dirt with striking saguaro cacti.

We also made a stop at the Boyce-Thompson Arboretum to reintroduce ourselves to the variety cacti and succulents of the landscape; I was especially looking for an ocotillo in bloom.

Dad and me next to a saguaro at Boyce-Thompson

Kelly found a seat in the shade at Boyce-Thompson

"Rattlesnakes only beyond this point" according to a sign at Boyce-Thompson.
Was that supposed to be a deterrent?  I haven't seen a rattlesnake in years!

Following the arboretum, we passed a massive pit mine for gold. Separating the mine from the highway in several areas were impoverished communities, leaving derelict buildings along the road in this area of rural Arizona. Roofs were caved, windows were boarded, and walls were in a state of either falling in or falling out. It is ironic that we would pass this wasteland on our way to paradise, a stark contrast.

Off of the highway, we took a turn onto a narrow, gravel road for 12 miles. We passed large, comfortable, rugged homes in the bottom of the canyon, much different from the towns just a few miles back. Greenery increased in the valley as we drove deeper into the canyon on a road that stayed below the rim, but well above the floor of the canyon as it fell below us on the right. Cottonwoods and mesquite trees increased below us on our right with saguaro and barrel cacti on our left.

We arrived at to the trailhead an hour before sunset. Legally, we couldn't start the trail until the next day as this was highly managed wilderness by the BLM. So, we opened beers and fizzy waters as we read the signs posted about the area, stretched our legs, and scoped out the trailhead.

An ATV sound came from the private road just beyond the trailhead. A talkative man wearing a button-down shirt and khaki shorts stopped and said "hello!" He asked us if we were hiking the next day. Dad, being the congenial guy he is with a knack of striking up a conversation with anyone, launched in and threw in his one-liner used to spark interest in all new folks: "We're from Alaska!"

"Alaska?!" He took off his rose-colored eye protection, he pointed out they were his windshield as his 4-seater ATVesque machine lacked one. He introduced himself as "Langdon" and invited us to his house down the road to share a beer--he wondered if we had more to share?--and perhaps let us camp on his land rather back down the road at the ranger station. He had to run down the road to his neighbor's house and would be back in a moment. We said we were interested.

After he left, dad checked in with us if we felt comfortable staying with this guy. This stranger was also conversational, we actually had trouble getting a few words in, incredibly welcoming, and he lived in paradise. We were decidedly comfortable!

We followed him the .5 mile or so to his home, the roughest road of the trip with an unmaintained lengthy driveway of thick gravel-like rock. Definitely a road for an ATV or lifted truck, not a little Mazda. But we made it.

His house was clearly from an earlier era but was also a working-house but with incredibly unique southwestern detail: red and orange clay tile floors; saguaro-rib cabinets and doors; thick, wrought iron door hardware; Mexican pig-skin furniture; and thick southwestern rugs. His living room displayed an old vinyl record assortment, a collection of classic old books, movie posters, modern art. He clearly appreciated an eclectic variety of different cultures and eras.

He then asked us what kind of beer we had and hoped we had something other than wheat beer, but we only had beers with wheat in the name. Then he said he didn't really like beer but opened a bottle of wine. He led us out the back door, a sliding glass door that no longer slid easily: jostling glass door. We walked to the edge of his yard which was nearly to the precipice of the canyon where several lawn chairs were arranged around an outdoor fire pit. The views were stunning.

He regaled us with tales of saying "dude" too often, living and working in Europe, growing up (something he was still working on, he declared) in Tucson, his social-worker wife who had dedicated her life and career to helping others in a system that rarely showed appreciation, the local BLM ranger, and his neighbors up and down the canyon. He showed us where his organic cattle range spread to in the distance, the reason for living in this location in addition to his home in Tucson.

We noticed, as the stars came out, that the orientation of the Big Dipper and Polaris were much different from the orientation in Alaska: here, the Big Dipper was laying on its side! The visibility of the stars was amazing, but what was even more amazing was being able to be out stargazing at 7:30 pm in shorts and shirt in mid-March!

He and dad talked easily. The hours started to fly by. At 8, we decided we needed to set up the camping gear and cook dinner. Langdon let us set up camp in his front yard and invited us to use his kitchen to prep our camp meal. We used his stove to boil water to rehydrate the dehydrated veggies, cook the stove top stuffing, and mix in the canned venison.

He shared information and opinions on issues with raising cattle in the system, the issues of our food system in the corporate world, and his opinion on omega-3s in the human diet. As the amount of wine he drank and the amount of marijuana he smoked continued, the more and more animated he became and the more he shared. He was an incredibly humours and generous person.

Kelly and I surprised dad with a 63rd-birthday bowl of instant jello, that failed to set after an hour, with three lit candles that were quickly listing towards the jello in all directions. It was more of a chocolate jello pudding soup!

Langdon cooked up spaghetti squash on his stove, with Finlandia butter and hot sauce. It was simple and delicious. He had a great wealth of knowledge and experiences and an unassuming man who was incredibly down to earth but must not be hurting for money. Yet he spent a considerable amount of time in a home that needed some repairs, he had holes in the forearms of his shirt and a safety pin clasping both sides of his shirt as an immediate repair to several missing buttons.

As we were headed to bed, he pulled out a pack of remaining fireworks to light in honor of Dad's 63rd birthday. The first one I lit made a beautiful display of fireworks against the depthless sky, riddled with stars. We didn't see the stick returning to earth until it fell almost next to us, landing with a grunt like a body hitting the ground. Kelly lit the next one, but it was too tight in the earth. It showered the area with sparks and crackles and pops. Unfortunately, it was within a few arms lengths of our tents! Luckily, not a spark got it. Dad lit the third one and again the colors lit up the earth with the starry sky backdrop.

And with that, we headed to bed; Langdon in his house, us in our tents. Not long after we slid into our bags, what looked like a little raccoon was scurrying around us. We couldn't see the animal outright, but we could see its shape and size against the solar lights that lit the walkway from the cars to the front door.

We gazed at the stars through the mesh of the tent as we fell asleep, excited to get an early start on Aravaipa.

Kelly and I awoke to hear the chatter to these guys again! Amazing they had this much to talk about! Langdon was making coffee for all of us and again invited us to use his stove to make our meals: instant oatmeal eaten out of the package. These camp meals seemed so out of place being eaten with real silverware in a modern kitchen.

Front lawn of Langdon's house.  More ocotilloo, but still none in bloom.

In the circle in front of the tents is where we lit the fireworks.
Unfortunately, we never did get a photo with Langdon.

Langdon wished us a great trip and shared his contact information. It's interesting the people you meet whom you feel you must have known in another life. What about a chance encounter makes people hit it off? Or to put down their guard in a chance meeting? Langdon said in the 12-years of owning the ranch, they had never, ever invited guests down to their property. What was it about us to make him extend an invitation? What was it about him that compelled us to accept his offer? Were we naive, over-trusting Alaskans? Perhaps we were, but we had a great time with Langdon.

We said our goodbyes and professed our appreciation again and headed back down the roughest .5 mile of road in the 120-mile journey from the Phoenix valley back to the trailhead.

As we drove up, an older man was also loading his daypack and about to set out. Good 'ol Dad started up a conversation, again announcing we were from Alaska and made another friend.

We ran into this gentleman again later in the canyon.

It turned out he was a volunteer for the wilderness area and on the search of a Trogon, a bird that makes the sound not too dissimilar from a barking chihuahua, he said. He gave us some good information on the geology of the area; dad loved it!

We headed down the trail and with a descent of maybe 50 feet, we were at the canyon bottom and at our first creek crossing. This "trail" meanders along the canyon bottom more than the river does. We hiked on the right bank, through the river, down a gravel or sand bar, and on the left bank, never staying on any one path for more than fifty feet, and generally only twenty. Our feet enjoyed the refreshing dip in the water as it kept us cool as it splashed up our legs. It was tough walking in the river for long distances, so we kept an eye out for trails that paralleled the river on either bank.

Kelly and Dad in Aravaipa Canyon.  Cool enough for long shirts at this point.

Trail through the water.

As we hiked, I reminisced of my prior Arizona hiking, prior canyon hiking. I was slowly remembering the feeling of the heat of the day, the feel of plants that want you to keep your distance, and the smell of moist ground in an arid environment.

The walls of the canyon started narrow with Paleolithic era rock, some of the oldest and hardest rock which makes it difficult to erode (thank you, Dad and volunteer for this info). This rock was dark red and maroon which was a beautifully complimentary color to the deep greens of the barrel, yucca, agave plants that lived on the canyon wall.

Kelly next to this old rock.

The narrows

The sun was rising.

As we continued traveling, the old rock gave way to lighter colored ash rock. With the change in the canyon wall, the biome also changed to more cottonwoods than cactus. At one point, dad even pointed out we could see saguaro on the other side of a line of cottonwoods. We continued deeper into the canyon, stepping over the variety of colored and shaped stones.

Finding shade.  Example of the variety of rocks that made up the canyon walls.

As the walls became a softer compound (ash vs. old rock), the canyon widened.

Langdon told us of the 1,000-year floods of 2006 and the previous high rains of this current season.

Several hours in, we found a spot of shade and stopped for a lunch of baby bel cheese and salami on tortillas. We knew we were getting close to our recommended camping spot, across from Horse Camp Canyon, but we started to follow a trail that took us closer to the canyon walls and far away from the river and overshot HCC. We turned on the GPS and discovered our error. We turned around and found a great place to camp, though not the recommended location. We set up our tents, took out our day packs and headed back to HCC to do some side canyon exploration.

Maneuvering through boulders

Dad and Me on slick rock

We stepped over boulders and glided up slick rock. Kelly guided us to the end of our route: a deep emerald pool in the shade of a semi-truck-sized boulder in an amphitheater of slick rock. From where the water trickled down at one end, a healthy grouping of plants sprouted almost from the canyon walls. We sat quietly in the cool air; there was much to appreciate.

Columnar volcanic creations above me.

Dad and Kelly by the emerald (read: algae-filled) pool

Emerald pool with trickling water and plants growing from the side of the wall.

As we headed back to camp, we broke out the boxed wine and travel cribbage board. Dad and I took turns reminding Kelly basic rules of the game as well as strategy. As the games wore on, I broke out the surprise meals.

The first surprise was the skillet bread appetizer (imagine a thick pancake or pita minus the air pocket) from Pack-It-Gourmet. It required special cooking technique with the outback oven diffuser and constant checking to keep it from burning on the pocket rocket. It was delicious. Then came the Idaho potatoes. Simply add the water and let it do its thing. Lastly was the Bamboo Bowl from Fireside Provisions (we had previously enjoyed this meal on our Lost Coast hike and I selected it because it is delicious!): cook the dehydrated rice and veggies, add the Gentleman's Jerky, soy sauce and hoisin sauce and serve. Meals for kings. Dessert was vanilla jello, which set much better this time; stirred and served in a ziplock.

Camp site; I was prepping the food.

Kelly prepares the inside of the tent.  Fly on, prepared for the predicted rain.

Fireside Provision's Bamboo Bowl ingredients

Through the meal, we were serenaded from deep guttural noises in the trees. "What kind of bird makes noises at night?" Dad asked. The noises continued though they quickly became background noise.

Brushing my teeth, I walked behind a boulder near the campsite to spit out my toothpaste and as soon as I sprayed it over the ground nearby, the background noises that had faded without our knowing started up again quickly again and loudly! What we had thought to be birds were a group of toads whose eyes were staring back at me in the gleam of my headlamp.

This video was for the sound, thinking maybe this was the sound of the Trogon
the volunteer was searching for.  But no, it was frogs.  

Dad strung up our food and smellies in the tree with the shoelaces we bought at the last store on our way out of dodge. Who forgot the rope? We knew rain was in the forecast but again the stars through the doorway mesh were beautiful, though we had the rest of the rain fly on and ready.

It wasn't until 5 am that a little sprinkle started, but the rain didn't actually start until 7 am. This didn't dissuade Kelly from donning her puffy and rain jacket and going out to start heating water for coffee and oatmeal like a champ! We splurged with a Starbucks vanilla latte packets and Kelly taught us the art of pouring your instant oats into your coffee. AMAZING! We stood in our rain jackets in the rain and wind and smiled that even in that weather we were still warm without socks or gloves!

Coffe pre-oatmeal.  Our spirits were high!

Kelly and Dad.

We had planned for an 8am departure, but breakfast conversation and packing had us heading back at 9am. This was a short trip, not to be our last in Aravaipa.

Dad and I.  Cool enough for long sleeves, but not pants.

Ready to cross the river, again.

Retracing the trail we had taken earlier, we found the going easier: the weather was cooler than our hike in, we were more accustomed to locating trail, and by moving in this direction we were going with the detritus washed into trees and bushes from prior flooding. It all pointed downstream, like iron filings aligned by a magnet, parallel to the river. On our way up, bent bushes stabbed and caught us; this time we were, literally, going with the flow.

Crossing the River Styx

We saw a massive amount of people leaving the canyon than we did as we entered. Several groups of backpackers, one GET thru-hiker (Great Enchantment Trail--no, we'd never heard of it either), and several large groups of day hikers, one large group tiptoeing around the river, trying to keep dry as we can stomping down the middle of the river.

We also watched a coatimundi inspect a beach as we stood behind the shield of cottonwood trees stopping to adjust and delayer.

Coatimundi (larger than a ring-tail cat, and the largest wildlife of the trip)

The end of the trail came quicker than we anticipated as we stripped out of our wet shoes and sandy socks just twenty-nine hours after we entered.

The demarcation of the beginning of the wilderness.  The first 1.5 miles of the trail is a partnership between The Nature Conservancy and Langdon's property to grant people access to the wilderness.

Back at the trailhead.  Twenty-nine hours below the rim.

We took a group ending photo and vowed to return to explore Aravaipa further, and headed back to Phoenix to meet up with Mom and Richard and share our last night in the city together.

We had dinner at Nico's in Gilbert, owned by a James Beard-nominated Chef.

Alaska Staff Development Network's "Blended Learning with Catlin Tucker" Fall 2016, Final Response.

Previously Submitted to ASDN

Lindsey Cassidy

EDUC 57127

Response and Application Paper

Implementing Catlin Tucker in the 9 & 10 ELA Classroom

I have recently relocated to Juneau, Alaska (from Kodiak, Alaska) and was lucky to find a .6 teaching position for one 9^th grade English class and two 10^th grade English class.  There are no requirements to be in an Honors class that I can find, so the students in my classes are the ones who have specifically chosen to not go on the Honors/AP track.  Therefore, my student make-up is students who are struggling readers, several ELL students, several students on IEPs due to reading skills and/or behavior, many with 504’s for anxiety and/or ADHD, strong readers who don’t want to put forth the effort in an advanced class, and students who are at grade-level reading ability and placed correctly. 

I learned an incredible amount during Catlin Tucker’s webinar.  Some of it I have already begun implementing, but much of it will be slowly added into the class as we continue our learning. 

One of the earliest points of conversation in class was the process for online discussions.  She shared ideas about how to set ground rules, examples to give students of “what to do” and “what not to do.”  Her use of the website Schoology and demonstrating its use was also incredibly helpful. 

I certainly plan on implementing Schoology with my students before winter break.  Unfortunately, because we created accounts as “students” with Catlin in class, I couldn’t also get a teacher account until Catlin either released us from the class or quit the class.  She responded to my email just the other day about de-enrolling me from the trial Schoology class so I can create a teacher account with my school email so that I can start getting students on the site.  Previous to this, in Kodiak where I taught for four years, the district was using Moodle as their LMS system that not only allowed me to upload documents, provide links, and assign activities, it also allowed me to create online discussions.  Since coming to Juneau, I’ve been learning about Google Apps for Education, particularly Google Classroom.  While it is a beneficial resource, it does not do online conversations as effectively as Moodle; Schoology is just what I was wanting and needing.  I look forward to using Catlin’s resources to set expectations and begin to use the site for these discussions.

Another resource Catlin shared I found intriguing was her approach teaching vocabulary.  I appreciate her tip to using vocabulary.com as well as the activities she does in class, particularly the one similar to the late night show host Jimmy Fallon’s skit.  I found the activities engaging and I’m certain students will, too.

Recently, my 10^th grade English students began reading Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe and because I have just under fifty students in the classes, I started them using vocabulary.com with the new unit.  Students have only reviewed vocabulary for chapters one through six to this date, but with those twenty words, they have had an incredible amount of practice.  I also appreciate the leaderboard on the website that allows students to have a friendly competition with each other and their vocabulary.  Vocabulary.com offers new and different study practice options from the more commonly known site quizlet.com.

And finally, the other really appreciated resources Catlin shared with the class was the wealth of resources where teachers could find texts to share with students. She listed a variety of websites, some I had heard of like NewsELA and Diigo as well as others I had not including CommonLit and Smithsonian Teen Tribune.  One she did not mention that I have had great success with and is free, is ReadWorks.org. 

Allowing students to access information from texts is key to learning; NewsELA is a great resource that allows students to do this.  I have used NewsELA in the past, but I used it again quite recently after Catlin reminded me of its existence.  I was able to find a class text in NewsELA so that my students who were unable to access the information from the primary source and its 1330 Lexile score would be able to do so with a modified version.  All students were successful with the activity because of NewsELA.  I have used Diigo in my professional education—a professor required we locate resources and tag them—but I didn’t realize its full capacity for education until Catlin mentioned this.  I look forward to asking students to download the Diigo extension on their chrome books and asking them to annotate.  I have used ActivelyLearn to annotate, but it only allows a certain amount of documents uploaded a month with the free account and Diigo is always free.

Catlin gave so many great ideas that I had to purchase her text she plugged at the end of each class.  It has so much information that we didn’t cover in class as well as ideas discussed more in depth.  Again, I’m sure I’ll be using the rest of my year with my students to weave all of these activities in.  It’s been a very inspiring class!